RPlog:Fleming Tortures Brandis
Detention Block ''I2SD Predator'' The detention block is the Imperial standard of a well-built facility. Capable of handling the most aberrant criminals in the galaxy, the detention block is designed to intimidate and invoke fear and hopelessness in the prisoners held within its cells. A large ring of computer terminals on a raised circular dais in the center of the room hinders any attempt to move directly toward the raised detention block from the direction of the turbolift. Numerous types of surveillance equipment descend from the ceiling and extend from the walls to alert the bridge in the event that trouble arises. In addition to the two stormtroopers and the detention officer manning the security stations, several more armed stormtroopers line the walls at regular intervals. The block of cells itself extend down a pentagonal corridor. Steel grate floors with red lights underneath them traverse the black walled block. The doors to the cells are magna-locked to prevent blasters from opening them, and are recessed into the walls. Small view-holes allow observers to peek into the cells and an oblong tray door allows meals to be served, without opening the doors. => Tyler => Lanil => Brandis => Lynae => SQUAD: Stormtroopers - 8086 => SQUAD: Stormtroopers - 5779 leads to Turbolift -I2SD Predator-. ---- Malign turns back toward the Jedi as the guards approach, a black glove points to him, "Indeed I did help you on Corellia, but understand my motivations were to hamper the plans of Johanna. I am not your enemy Brandis, I have stated that before but as a follower of the Imperial Order I obey their laws and you were arrested by the Empire-" Before he can continue Lanil approaches and the Sith bows his head, only lightly, "Pleasure is mine, Agent." He says simply gesturing toward Brandis, "He is all yours." The Sith gives Brandis a passing pat on the shoulder as he moves off to the side, "I would like to observe, for the time being, any preliminary work or questioning you do on the Jedi Brandis, naturally I am concerned for his health and safety." It was difficult to say if there was any sarcasm in these words rather the man's expression remains rather stoic. Standing silently for a moment as the remarks are exchanged between Warlord Malign and the Jedi Brandis, Dr Caiton gives a signal to her assistant and the man enters the cell to address the issue of identity, or the lack thereof. The assistant, a pale lean man by the name of Dr. Petrya, enters the cell to test the old man while Dr. Caiton turns her attention towards Brandis and Malign. At the mention of questioning, she speaks to the man named Cheeto and has Korynn Fleming paged to assist with the questioning. Brandis jerks his shoulder away, his face betraying a faint hint of disgust. "Don't touch me, Tyler. I haven't forgotten how often you've offered me a 'helping hand'. Could it be a little bit of guilt over the fact that you ordered mine cut off?" There's a spark of something dangerous in the young man's eyes, a shred of steel that wasn't there the last time the two of them shared the same atmosphere. He doesn't spare a glance toward anyone else in the room, seeming far more intent on baiting Tyler for his own reasons. Fleming is not far. Unless he is on assignment elsewhere, he always says within a short distance of the detention area. The moment a page reaches his comlink, he immediately heads for the detention area. There, he has stocked in a supply case his assortment of interrogation tools, which are comprised of a number of dastardly devices and dangerous vials of medicine. The turbolift door opens, and Korynn steps out, headed for Doctor Caiton. "Hello, Doctor," he says, looking toward her with an expectant, dark gaze. "How may I be of assistance?" Hands remain clasped behind his back. Feeling insanely as though she's directing a circus, Lynae nods to Fleming before cautiously eyeing Malign and Brandis. "Warlord Malign has transferred the care of the Jedi Brandis to our capable personnel for the time being. While he is to observe the preliminary work and questioning that the Jedi will undergo, he will not be performing the actual interrogation and interview himself. I believe that you and agent Jast are the best men for this specific task," Dr Caiton says calmly. She makes no immediate mention of the old man in the other cell that her assistant is currently attempting to calm down enough to take a DNA sample from. Malign watches Brandis' response to him with some amusement. He felt a bit betrayed and bitten by the Jedi's rather poisonous words toward him. The Sith shrugs lightly, "I never removed your hand Brandis, you did, by participating in the rebellion." He says with some seriousness, "This could be a golden opportunity for you to reform and rejoin the ranks of the Empire." Then Fleming enters and then again there is the Captain as well he had previously talked to. Irony, there were people here to put his plans into action, though beneath his cool exterior a rage was beginning to boil and it creates a fragmented tremor in the force, perhaps Brandis was hitting him in all the right places. The Captain speaks and he nods quietly bowing lightly to the new arrival, "With respect Captain, if that man is Agent Jast's parent, or is not please leave him alive. I would like to observe any questioning of that gentleman as well, his age holds a lot of history and that could prove very interesting." The Sith smiles politely, but now it was for the task at hand, Malign's black gloved hand gestures toward Brandis, "He is all yours." ---- Brandis Straight blonde hair falls in long, uneven bangs into this young man's face, obscuring pale blue eyes the color of winter skies. The rest of his hair is cut in the same uneven style, just brushing the tops of his shoulders. His face is defined of character, a straight patrician nose set above full, well-formed lips. His skin is mildly sunburned and it's clear that he hasn't been exposed to bright sunlight for a while, by evidence of his complexion alone. His clothing is designed in a way that makes it clear simplicity is key to his personality. A sand-colored tunic shirt is overlaid by a long, buff cloak, azure threads stitched into the throat and hem in an intricate line pattern. The nerf-leather trousers are cut to match the tunic, a tan cloth belt cinched around his waist. A holster for a blaster is strapped to his hip. His trousers fall in a straight cut to where they are tucked into a pair of soft brown leather boots. ---- "I see," Korynn replies to Lynae. He glances toward the Warlord with a crisp bow of his head in respect, and then turns his eyes toward the prisoner in question. A Jedi. His eyes squint ever so slightly, and he looks the prisoner up and down with the slightest hint of distaste. He then turns back to Lynae, and speaks quietly. "I need to know how he ended up in our custody, and what our primary goals are with the interrogation." He then glances aside, looking toward one of the CompForce troopers posted in the room. One he has the trooper's attention, he motions toward his storage container, which sits locked against one of the walls in the main room. The trooper immediately nods his head and heads for the storage container. Brandis laughs at Tyler, "I did? When you ordered Solon Halwinder to cut off his choice of body parts, I wasn't working for the Rebellion, you idiot. I was working with an independent organization and I'd come to Selene to help save a friend. If I could thank anyone for forcing me to choose sides, it would be you." his pale eyes have gone cold and hard as he glares at Malign. "And if you think I would ever join your pathetic power-mongering friends, you're even more out of your mind than I'd first suspected. I'll never become an Imperial. I'd rather die first." his attention is turned toward Korynn next, "How I ended up here? That one is easy. I was kidnapped from an independent world and brought here against my will. I have done no crimes against your Empire to be tried against, you may as well save yourselves some trouble and release me back to my compatriots while you still have the opportunity." Deciding to neatly sidestep the remarks passing between Fleming and Brandis, Dr Caiton instead answers Warlord Malign's request with a carefully measured nod. "Once his identity is confirmed I will remit that report to your attention, Sir. As to his continued health and well-being, I will ensure that he receives the best medical care that the Empire can provide. A man of his age will have a number of age related ailments that we can address," she adds. She clears her throat softly before turning back to watch the exchange between Fleming and Brandis almost like a bird watching a dangerous predator approach, unable to resist. The cloaked Sith's aura erupts with Dark energy, potent enough to set the temperature off in the room. His figure becomes darker and more threatening as his features virtually vanish behind the heavy hood of his cloak into shadow. Dark tendrils of energy erupt around him as they lash out at Brandis through the Force as the Sith begins to push his presence into the room, "You are such a foolish, little man." Malign's voice grows gravely and embittered as he removes the gloves from his hands, "Fools are those that receive fool's lessons." Energy begins to crackle around him as he surges with energy and lurches out grasping, it was time to put the gifts of Vadim to the test, "I'm sorry friend I have not fully mastered this skill I could easily kill you, pray for strength!" Malign grabs Brandis' face covering the eyes that had looked at him with such content and sends a surge of negative energy into the Jedi focusing all of his hated in rage intent on making every single nerve in his body to react in pain and possibly burning them out, "With the power of the Dark Side comes UNLIMITED POWER! A power you cannot even begin to fathom!" He hisses pressing his strength into it both physically attempting to throw the Jedi to the ground as he shoots him with all his might, "DIE!" Hazel eyes widen as he allows the Dark Side to consume him. Korynn Fleming turns his attention back toward Brandis when the Jedi addresses him. His eyes are cold, and the words from the Jedi don't seem to affect him at all. The Jedi will, after all, be broken and submissive. It is only a matter of time and finesse. With his hands clasped behind his back, he doesn't offer the Jedi a direct response. Instead, the Warlord decides to take the situation back into his own hands, and Korynn chooses to merely stand by and observe. The darkening of the room, the addition of heat, it doesn't seem to phase him. His hands remain clasped behind his back, he doesn't move, he doesn't flinch. Instead, a slight smirk shows on his face as he observes. This is quite enjoyable... and it will make his future work much easier. That is, of course, unless Malign truly follows through and kills the stain. Brandis' breath catches in his chest in the middle of inhaling the moment Tyler touches him. Even to those not sensitive to such energies, there is a sensation much like a soundless explosion radiating outward from the contact, so dire are the powers that Malign directs with his rage. It seems almost for a moment as though the young Jedi has stopped breathing entirely, that perhaps Tyler was successful in his bid to murder with nothing more than a casual gesture. Two things happen at the same moment. Brandis hitches in a ragged breath and he drops to his knees, either attempting to wrest free of the hand gripping his face, or all the strength having fled from his limbs. He screams, a rising sound of torment as every nerve and synapse is infused with agony. He brings both hands up and snaps them against Tyler's wrist, struggling to break the hold. Perhaps his will is strong enough to survive it, but only time will tell. The level of training that it takes to become an Imperial Soldier is the sort of stuff that legends are made of. Years of service, dedication, reviews, loyalty tests, over and over, such exhausting work that goes into it is just astounding. So it is with little to no surprise that Dr Caiton is the only one in the room who even reacts at all when the Jedi screams. The barest step forward as Warlord Malign grabs the Jedi, the room resonating with the contact, and everyone else seems to freeze in place. For a fleeting instant she is tempted to throw a bucket of water on the two to end the contest, but her training kicks back in and she too freezes in place. Her mind makes that necessary step to a cool, analytical place where she observes and records, methodically assessing the temperature of the room and everything else. The Jedi was resisting, that is good, maybe he did have some control over this new feat, of all the people to test his new found power on. The Jedi Brandis had always been such a good associate for such things. The Sith shifts his hand, "I will be the last thing you see in this galaxy, Jedi." Suddenly he runs his index finger and middle finger over the Jedi's eyes with the same amount of energy he was applying to the Jedi's body and then he pulls away standing up straight and adjusting his cloak. He was coming into his own as a Jedi and for a split moment Malign pitied him. Malign had been trying to become above such pitiful emotion as that, his inner-self apologizing. The Sith ruled through strength and the lack of pity there was no time for this weakness there was never time for this. Tyler Damion was dead a figment of his past only to be erased by the never ending power of the Dark Side. "He is all yours." He turns to ISB agent to the side, "He shouldn't give you or your guards much trouble. Discover any information you can about the Rebellion from him, and most importantly keep him alive in is misery." The Sith takes a moment to catch his breath putting his gloves back onto his hands, "Brandis, enjoy your stay in the Empire." He hisses giving the man a quick kick into his side. The Sith turns toward the Captain, "I regret to inform you, that I have altered my plans and will not be able to observe initial questioning of the Jedi Brandis, if you do need my assistance please contact me." He bows his head lightly and slowly begins to move toward the door. Immediately, Fleming smacks his hands together to create a loud clap. He then motions with his hand in a secret message that the Stormtroopers will understand. Four of them move in immediately, rushing on the Jedi and making to grasp his arms so that they may detain him. He turns to the CompForce trooper and speaks with a cold, firm voice, just loud enough to cut through the room. "Procedure Twelve Delta Seven. Ankles, Wrists, Torso, Neck." In compliance, the CompForce trooper opens the storage compartment and retrieves a handful of bindings, of a type that can be attached to special connectors built into the walls and floors of each individual cell. Fleming observes for just a moment to make sure that the Stormtroopers are able to detain the Jedi. Brandis eyes are streaming, unbidden reaction to the enormous pain that Tyler had directed at him mere moments before. But still there is a look of pure contempt bordering dangerously on hatred when the Sith touches his fingers to each eyelid. The young man's mouth sags open as the torture becomes much more focused on a specific region. Blinding pain indeed, he feels as though his eyes might very well explode, it hurts so much. Released, he curls up on the floor, his eyes clenched shut, trying desperately to get a handle on it, to sublimate it to something more tolerable and thus dismissible. By the Force, it hurts. Of course, the Sith have never been ones to pass up the opportunity to kick a man when he's down, nor does Tyler. Brandis grunts with the boot to the side and rolls with it, going so far as to attempt to crawl away when the Stormtroopers seize him and start to drag him toward an unoccupied cell. Through all of it, he hasn't been tempted to open his eyes. They still hurt enough to discourage the attempt. Korynn looks the CompForce trooper square in the eye as he moves toward the storage container. "You know what to do," he says, and the Trooper nods his head. The Trooper turns to follow beyond the Stormtroopers who drag Brandis toward an unoccupied cell. Once inside, the CompForce trooper instructs the Stormtroopers to force the Jedi's legs and arms into a position where he will lie on the floor, spread eagled, and in a position where the harnesses for the ankles, wrists, torso and neck can be securely fastened into the floor. Meanwhile, Fleming is now accessing the storage unit. He emerges after digging through his well organized supplies, carrying a halo-type device in his left hand, and a folder-sized medical bag. He tucks the medical bag under one arm, then reaches into the storage unit and retrieves a small case. Whatever's inside remains concealed. Dutifully, Korynn closes the container and stalks toward the detention hall, taking a turn to enter the Jedi's cell. Brandis struggles, of course. What self-respecting being wouldn't, when faced with what he's being subjected to? However, even with his enhanced abilities, four on one is unfair odds, especially when he realizes with slowly dawning horror that Tyler's threat was more specific than he'd realized. He's opened his eyes, and all is still in darkness. Instead of submitting to the panic that threatens to overwhelm him, he steeps himself in the Force, letting the currents of it help to calm him, despite the fact that he can no longer see with his eyes. This is just another exercise, he whispers to himself, his voice dry and thready in the chilling silence of the troopers who are helping to secure him to the floor. Slowly, his breathing returns to normal, as well as his heart rate and he listens to everything around him while attempting to determine how many beings surround him. When Korynn enters the room, he observes the Jedi quietly. He knew very little about the actual workings of Jedi and the Force, but his specified training did prepare him to some degree for these situations. As he observes the Jedi calming himself, he squints his eyes, and realizes that if what he suspects is true, he will have quite a bit of work to do after all. Good. Fleming pulls the gloves from his belt and begins pulling them over his hands, and approaches the Jedi who is now bound to the cell's floor, practically immobilized. Out from another pouch on the white-clad agent's belt comes a small device, known by many as a glow-lamp. He crouches down beside the immobilized Jedi's shoulders, and reaches forth to place his fingers firmly against each eyelid on the Jedi's left eye, prying it open as far as it can go. He then activates the glow-lamp at its brightest setting, and shines it directly into the Jedi's pupil. This will determine whether the subject is blind or not, and if not, it will most likely push the subject closer to that inevitability. So be it. Unless his actions are somehow stopped, he will repeat the exercise with cold precision upon the subject's other eye. Aside from gritting his teeth as Korynn plucks at his eyelids, Brandis makes no other response. Having regained his composure, he intends to keep it intact if at all possible, despite his blindness. He can see nothing that the interrogator does and must rely on his ears and the Force to inform him of his surroundings. "Ask your questions." he remarks quietly, with a great deal of dignity. "I will tell you nothing." "Tonight there will be no questions, prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma," replies Fleming, his voice low and icy. He puts the glow-lamp back into his pouch, and moves instead to place the small container onto the ground over against the wall and safely out of reach. He unfolds the folder left under his arm, which reveals a variety of vials, tubes, and syringes. His eyes scan them, and he picks out one containing a pale yellow fluid. He lifts a syringe, inserts it into the vial, and begins drawing out the measured dosage. "Trooper," he says with a monotone voice, summoning the CompForce trooper who has essentially become his aide. "Medical scanner." "Sir." The trooper turns and heads out of the cell, sent on his errand. Fleming turns back to Brandis, and crouches down once more, pressing a hand against the Jedi's neck and holding with a good bit of force. He then jabs the needle into the prisoner's neck, and begins injecting the vile liquid into the prisoner's jugular. "Prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma will not struggle. Prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma will not speak out of turn. Otherwise, the prisoner will be punished." Brandis sucks in a hissed breath as the needle is jammed into his neck, though he's not so foolish as to attempt to struggle against it. "I'm not afraid of you." he answers once the needle has been withdrawn, his voice terse. "And my name is Kitterick Brandis Finian. I'm not a Force-blasted number." and he will fight against everything Fleming suggests to the bitter end, if he must. "You are nothing to me." Fleming withdraws the needle after pushing the liquid into the prisoner's body. The prisoner had spoken out of turn. Thus, as the drug begins to course through Finian's body, Fleming goes over toward his little box of secrets, after closing the folder and enclosing the used needle into a small bag, which he hands off to the CompForce trooper as he returns with a medical scanner. As the trooper takes Fleming's spent syringe and goes back out of the cell, Korynn opens his box of secrets and withdraws a small, metallic device, nothing more than a cold rod. He then strides over toward Brandis, inserts the rod into the place where the very back edge of the human ear connects with the skull, and begins applying an inhumane amount of pressure to the pressure point that lies there. "Your name is Kitterick Brandis Finian, but your designation is Prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma. When you are in this cell, you will be Prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma. Any reference to your name will result in pain. If you obey, you will be rewarded with the luxury of using your actual name." Korynn applies yet more pressure to the point, causing a crippling sting to lurch through the Jedi's nerves. Of course, he may not realize that the Jedi is capable of controlling that pain. Nonetheless, the drug injected into Finian's body begins to filter through his system, and as it does, it begins latching on to every nerve cell in his body. The compound is merely a chemical carrier. Aside from what guidance the Force may give, the Jedi would notice a tingling sensation that runs through his body, as the chemical waits to be properly stimulated before unleashing the true measure of it's capability. Brandis makes an attempt to twist away from what Korynn is doing. Not so much because the discomfort is unbearable, but because he has to know the limits of his restraint. "How brave you are, to torment someone incapable of fighting back." Of course it hurts, but he's also been taught how to sublimate pain and it isn't as bad as it might be, otherwise. His voice is tight, but then, his teeth are clenched as well, his body bunched with tension as the tingling sensation settles into arms and legs, hands and feet. He doesn't like it, but he's not sure what its purpose is. He wonders if he'd be able to identify anything Korynn is using on him, being as well-versed in the medical field as he is. It could be possible. However, it would be a pit of medical skill against medical skill. Fleming has access to some of the most dangerous and difficult to use nerve agents and psychotropic drugs available to the Empire, and he is well trained in using them. Too much and he could fry Finian's nervous system, turning him into a vegetable. Too little, and the treatment will fail. However, there are many drugs that cause a tingling sensation. Without being able to see the color and dosage, the prisoner is left in the dark. Pun intended. "How intelligent, you mean," replies Fleming. "I will not be so stupid as to leave you capable of pulling your Jedi tricks. Obey me and you will be rewarded. Disobey me and you will be punished. I have all the time in the world, Prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma." Unfortunate for the prisoner, the restraints are constructed of an ultra-durable, quad-reinforced alloy. Now, if the Jedi were able to contort his bones, acquire superhuman strength, or use the Force to destroy the molecules, Fleming might be in for a surprise. We'll see. Instead, the procedure must continue. Fleming takes a few steps away and waits patiently for a few moments to make sure the medicine has worked its way into the prisoner's system, before returning the steel rod to its container. Out from the container now comes a small set of diodes, attached by wires to a power cell with a dial. He holds it in his hand, inspecting it quietly. Brandis listens to the silence, pondering what he might say to ruffle the man's feathers. He has yet to submit to the conditions that Fleming gave him in regards to his behavior. "You Imperials and your methods. Do you really think that your threats frighten me? What you do to me can be no worse than what Tyler Damion has already done. Tell me, just for the sake of conversation...what do you look like. And what is the drug you're using? I'm a doctor, maybe I could learn something from the process besides how annoying the lot of you really are..." "If he didn't expect me to be worse, then why did he turn you over to me?" asks Fleming, his voice never changing from the cold, sterile tone that it uses. It would seem that his feathers are simply not going to be ruffled. His boots make clipping sounds as he walks back over toward Brandis, and he kneels down once more, attaching the diodes to the man's temples. "You can learn what I look like when you have chosen to obey me," says the ISB agent, who then rises to his feet, taking a step behind Brandis' head. "Now, your punishment." In a normal scenario, he would have wanted the prisoner to see him. Wanted to observe the terrifying objects he has at his disposal. Unfortunately, the prisoner lost his sight, so he lacks that method of intimidation, and would it really work on a Jedi? Normally, he would have gone to the first of ten settings. But today, he will need to start on setting four. The dial is twisted, and a very small current of electricity passes through the diodes and into Finian's skin. A normal person would barely even feel the slightest of static shocks. However, this is where Finian will discover, by experience, what the injected drug does. The chemicals now bonded to every nerve cell in Brandis’ body are suddenly stimulated when the small electrical current enters the skin, and each nerve ending alights with fire. It has a paralyzing effect, rendering every sense, taste, touch, sound, and taste, victim to the ripping, tearing pain that courses in a seemingly uncontrolled manner through the prisoner's body. "One thousand one," counts Korynn. "One thousand two." Brandis grunts, biting into his lip as the volts pass through him, his body arching against the restraints. He's not even conscious of the blood as it drips down his chin, or the coppery taste of it in his mouth, so focused is he on battling with the rippling razor's edge of searing pain that seems never-ending and continuous. Breathe...just.. .his hands clench into fists and the left actually throws a few sparks, revealing it's bionic nature more clearly than any casual glance may have garnered. "Con..gra...tu...la....tions. You know...how to.. count." he gasps out, refusing to meet Korynn's demands for obedience. He knows how the game is played. It's one he's only been subjected to once before, but even Tyler bent the rules so that it wasn't quite this way. Fleming only has mundane means to make him hurt, but it seems more than enough at the moment. Fleming continues counting at an even pace until he reaches ten, when he twists the dial back down to 'zero'. "That was setting number four, Prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma. The device has ten settings, and in spite of what you may think, your body is more than capable of handling the maximum setting." He lowers the device to his side, and begins pacing slowly around behind Brandis’ head. "You will soon learn to obey me." He continues pacing, his cold eyes biting back the fury held deep inside, his loathing of the man before him tangible through the Force, yet neatly and meticulously controlled. "Tell me your name." Brandis spends the next few moments remembering how to breathe and in that duration, what Fleming says comes across as tinny and distant, as annoying as the buzzing of a gnat or other tiny biting insect. "There are many things I think and many things I know." the young doctor states, his words succinct if somewhat breathless, "And I know that I will never submit to you. This flesh is fleeting, but I will live on through the Force. And I will be more powerful than you can imagine." it's not a promise of vengeance, but a surety in what he believes in. "My name is Kitterick Brandis Finian, which I have already told you. Are you soft in the head that you can't remember these things?" Fleming's eyes twist ever so slightly. "Incorrect." He twists the dial again, bringing the electrical current back into Finian's body. Again, the current wouldn't even be noticeable if it weren't for the molecular chemicals now bonded to his nerves, and the stimuli of science that brings him such intense, flowing pain. He counts again for ten seconds, then switches off the current, his face showing a complete lack of emotion. Detachment from the terrifying deeds he is performing, through years of loyalty and COMPNOR re-education. "Prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma will refer to himself as Prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma," he calls out with a loud, authoritative voice. "Or else Prisoner 2-1-69-Gamma will force his caretaker's hand!" "Liar!" Brandis shouts, once he has the breath to speak again. "You said that was my designation, not my name!" he struggles against the confines of his restraints, twisting this way and that in a desperate attempt to break free. If he can somehow break even one, that would be something. He would make this petty, cruel man pay for his presumptions. He'll walk out of here under his own power, never mind that he can't see where he's going. He'll make them all suffer. For a moment, the young Jedi is lost...lost in grappling with the dark side, with the nearness of the power it promises. For a moment he can almost breathe his vengeance, soaked with the pain he's already been subjected to. For a moment, Korynn's life hangs in the balance. And then it is done, and Brandis falls still once more, precious control his to claim. He will not give them the satisfaction of breaking him. His breathing calms audibly, his expression smoothes to one of peaceful resignation. "Do your worst." Korynn, unaware of the struggle that swirls around the young Jedi's soul, has his own decision to make. Clearly, his most treasured procedure is not going to work as well as it would on, shall we say, 'normal' subjects. Of course, this one is by far not 'normal', if the reports of him being a Jedi are true. Korynn remains silent for a few long seconds, then lifts his chin decisively. "Very well." He steps forward and removes the diodes from the prisoner's head, and begins wrapping the wires up in a professional manner. He turns to the CompForce trooper and says, "Bring me the materials for S-D-T, along with an intravenous nutrient feed. We can't have the prisoner refusing to eat." Brandis laughs breathlessly from the floor. "That sounds distinctly uncomfortable." Part of him, the analytical medical mind behind the placid, vacant blue eyes wants to know what Korynn is planning. If he had some way to prepare himself...even minutely, it would be easier to hold to sanity, to rational thought and not play bait and switch with the temptation to fall every time the evil man tries something new. But he knows asking is useless. Perhaps a devil-may-care attitude would garner him more information. "I could kill you, if I let myself." he whispers, the words soft and dangerous. "Do you know that?" Fleming lifts the container and begins packing the torture device back away where it belongs, his eyes lingering upon the prisoner who addresses him. "I don't doubt that, but you are afraid of letting yourself. It is part of the plague that poisons your mind, part of the lies that are seeded into you by your fellow Jedi. That is the disease that I intend to cure out of you, because until you are cured, you will not serve the Galaxy in any good capacity." His voice suddenly becomes... in fact... soothing. "I do care for you, Jedi. But you must trust me. I can help you become someone who is of worth to this galaxy, but you must learn to trust me." "Never. You would turn me into a killer as bad or worse than Vader." Brandis forces himself to relax, his hands unclenching finally through sheer willpower. "I will never be what you want me to be." He closes his eyes, focusing on the sensations around him, the temperature of the air, the mechanical hum of the deck plating beneath his body. All of it is something to absorb, turning his attention inward helps him ignore Korynn more easily. "You're a monster." Korynn sighs ever so quietly. Brandis is right, he is a monster. But he doesn't know it. He believes, to his very core, that Brandis has been brainwashed, lied to, and turned into nothing more than a stain and a pawn of squabbling, melodramatic politicians. What's worse, the Jedi doesn't even know it. He shakes his head and turns aside as the CompForce trooper arrives, carrying a dastardly contraption that he exchanges for the box in Fleming's hand. "Thank you," he says to the trooper. "You're dismissed. I will handle it from here." "Yes, Sir!" Brandis is left knowing nothing more of what Korynn plans. He could, perhaps, search Korynn's mind if he were willing to do whatever it took to get the information, but again that is of the dark side and he will not hurt another, even to spare himself more pain. He's already told Fleming to do his worst. S-D-T stands for "Sensory Deprivation Therapy". The contraption in Fleming's hands consists of a pair of gloves made of a specially knit material that essentially gives the wearer's fingertips the sensation that they are touching nothing, even when pounded against a solid surface. The technology is comprised of nearly microscopic devices that are a mold between inertial dampers and repulsorcoils, surrounding and knit into a skin-tight inner sleeve. The gloves run up to the mid-arm. There is also a neck and head brace that can be attached to the bindings that hold the prisoner's neck in place. The brace is created so that the prisoner will be unable to move his head very far in either direction. Attached to the head device are a pair of sturdy earmuffs, which block out all sound, save for the sounds emitted from the speakers inside each earmuff. There is also a set of blinders, which won't come in very useful today. Similarly, there's a nose-shaped device that filters all scents from the air that is breathed into the prisoner's nose, and a gag that is forced into the prisoner's mouth, rendering him unable to chew, bite, or move his tongue to taste even the skin on the inside of his mouth. "Hold still and make this easy on yourself," instructs Korynn as he begins to force the gloves onto Brandis' hands. Brandis can really do nothing but let it happen. His advantage is that he has the Force and there is nothing that Korynn could do that might take that away from him. His expression is one of serene acceptance for what Korynn is doing. "You will do what you must." the Jedi says quietly, "And I will do what I must. You can't turn me from my chosen path." "I doubt that," replies Fleming. The gloves are slipped on, and the headpiece attached, all in a meticulous manner. In finality, the mouthpiece is forced rather roughly into the prisoner's mouth, such that he couldn't fight it out, and with a simple flick of two clasps, the entire device is firmly in place and unable to be removed. "Welcome to the void, Mister Finian," says Fleming. Of course, Brandis will never hear it. On the contrary, after the simple pressing of a pair of inconspicuous buttons on the headpiece's upper arch, Brandis will begin to hear a quiet, modulated synthetic sound - an inescapable saw-tooth buzzing that, though quiet enough to spare any damage to the eardrums, will simply not end, and in the muffled silence, it seems louder than it truly is. Thus Brandis is left in his torture device, all senses deprived of him, save for the modulated sound in his ears, which switches frequencies in a completely random pattern and at times programmed to provide the most unnerving, mentally dissolving results. After about ten hours, a medical trooper will be brought in to begin an intravenous supply of nutrients to keep Brandis alive, but the poor Jedi will be forced to endure this procedure for hours... days... weeks. Until someone sees fit to come in and stop the procedure.